Swimming Lessons
by Amanda Kitswell
Summary: Sunniva Cousland never did learn how to swim growing up, so she acquires the aid of the escape artist himself to finally do so. Written for a challenge on deviantART. No real pairing, though I do have plans for these two.


_Luckily it didn't last long. One day, an apprentice made a break for it. Jumped off the dock and started swimming for the shore. The Templars couldn't jump in after him. Not with the armor on. Finally found him a week later. We stopped having to go out after that. That mage, Anders, never stopped trying to escape, though. Haven't heard from him since his last attempt. __- Finn_

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><p>Desperate hands scraped through the water, clawing for the surface with every pang in her oxygen-starved lungs. She kicked her legs frantically, grasping for purchase in the chilled depths of the Waking Sea. When a pair of arms wrapped firmly about her waist, she almost struggled before she realized she was being pulled blessedly closer to the surface.<p>

"Andraste's knickers, I thought you said you had been practicing?" Anders chided, his well-meaning glare narrowing his eyes when she had finally cleared the moisture that clung to her face. "You looked like a darkspawn set aflame down there."

Sunniva Cousland huffed air through her lips, errant droplets of water splattering the mage's face in the process. "So I told a little white lie. I was busy placating the nobles of Amaranthine and hunting down talking darkspawn. Swimming lessons weren't exactly my number one priority."

"Well your priorities nearly got you killed today. What would Ferelden—no, what would _King Alistair_ do without the mighty Hero of Ferelden as the Commander of the Grey?"

"Hmph," she breathed out harshly, frustrated by her own lack of response. As they approached shallower waters and her feet finally touched semi-solid ground, she let out a grunt of indignation and pushed Anders away, storming out of the water in a rush. She snatched for her drying blanket and threw, "We're done here," over her shoulder before making her way to where they had set up camp.

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><p>Changing her position for the umpteenth time that evening, Sunniva resigned herself to her obvious restlessness. That bloody mage was going to be her undoing, in more ways than one. She briefly wondered if conscripting him into the Wardens had been worth the trouble he constantly gave her, but realized—pain in the ass though he may be—he was a capable healer and a better friend than she'd allowed herself to have during the Blight.<p>

With a frustrated sigh she flung the flap of her tent aside to step out, her cotton shift, breast band and panties her only cover from the unseasonably cool summer air. The moon was high, leaving the clearing awash in an eerie white glow. She padded across the damp earth lithely, not even remotely breaking the silence that enveloped her.

Not so much as a glance was cast toward her companion's tent as she reached the edge of the clearing to a now familiar path. It was only moments before she was staring into the midnight darkened waters of her most formidable enemy since the Archdemon. She was reminded of Ser Jory—of his concerns of facing a foe he could not engage in combat. His hesitance suddenly made sense to her, and for a moment she felt guilty for being cross with him.

Her resolve was crumbling quickly as a particularly large swell crashed on her bare feet and left her shivering. Sunniva turned on her heel and was set to run when she crashed into something rather solid. She looked up into the curious golden eyes of her friend and instantly felt sheepish.

"Do you have a death wish, Sunniva?" His voice was still thick with sleep, though his eyes were alight with an almost mischievous glee.

"If I did, I would have dived headlong into those waters, Maker damn the consequences," she replied, stepping backward until she could feel the gentle waves licking at the backs of her ankles. Another chill went up her spine and she couldn't help the shudder that wracked her body. At the rate these lessons were going, her nerves were going to be too entirely shot to continue fighting darkspawn. She looked down as a damnable flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks.

Two firm hands gripped her shoulders to turn her around, forcing her to face the water. She could feel Anders' warm breath on her ear as he leaned in and said, "There is nothing to be afraid of out there, if you know how to take control." He gently nudged her forward until she was knee deep in the inky water. "The currents will only drag you down if you fight them." Another push: she was hip deep now. "The water can only defeat you if you dive in expecting a loss."

She felt him pull away from her slightly, though he didn't loosen his grip on her shoulders. He continued to lead her forward until she was neck deep. She felt the panic bubbling within her, but just as quickly it was washed away by cleansing warmth that felt as if it were coming from everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

"You need to relax. If you tense up, the water will overcome you." He moved one hand to the back of neck, and the other slid down to rest on her lower back. "Take in a deep breath and hold it." She remembered this from when they had first started her lessons. She complied, and when she nodded her head she went limp, his hands holding her flat on the water's surface.

"I'm going to take my hands away now," he said as a warning. She slowly let out her breath to inhale once more, forcing herself not to panic when she began to sink slightly. Sunniva slowly circled her arms on the surface, kicking ever-so-lightly with just her feet. She floated for a few moments, staring into the cloudless sky and counting the stars to keep her mind focused on anything but the water beneath that could easily consume her.

She felt his hands again—this time on her waist—as he pulled her back to shallower water. She stood, surprised to see Anders with a Cheshire grin plastered on his face. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"You beat your own record. You were able to keep yourself afloat for five minutes entirely on your own." Sunniva blinked at him before her mouth stretched into the widest grin she could ever remember. She was fairly certain she had never smiled quite like this. "You look thoroughly satisfied with yourself."

"I know, I know. Don't get too excited, there's a long way to go, blah, blah," she stuck her tongue out, surprised at her own flippant attitude. The arched brow from her companion suggest he, too, was surprised, but he kept his mouth shut. "What, no witty retort from the sarcastically charming apostate?"

"If I weren't risking bodily harm, there would be." He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "Now let's head back to camp. We can continue this in the morning."

"Yes, ser." Though she kept the look on her face passive, her tone was mocking. She waded to the shore, chilled only slightly by the slight breeze that whispered through the leaves. Gooseflesh tingled along the surface of her arms, caressing a trail that coursed her entire body. She shook slightly, nearly jumping when Anders wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. "Well aren't we feeling bold?"

"I could let you go back to freezing your arse off, if you like," he replied nonchalantly. Her cheeks flushed in irritation, but she said nothing, opting to just continue walking in silence. "That's what I thought."

As they approached the camp, she shrugged Anders' arm off her shoulders and made for her tent. "I, uh… thank you. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well, Sunniva," he said, climbing into his tent.

She crawled inside her own cramped sleeping space, rummaging through her pack for dry clothing to change into. Her mind continually wandered to her lesson—the feeling of floating weightlessly in the water, the spattering of stars in the sky as she let herself relax for the first time since before her family had been slaughtered. What had once caused her no small amount of anxiety now felt decidedly less threatening, and as she pulled her dry nightgown over her head and shifted to her bedroll, she couldn't help but feel a little excited for what the following day had in store.

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><p><strong>This was an idea I had while writing <em>Injured<em>. I implied in one chapter that Anders had taught my Amell, Arais, how to swim. However, I decided to make this story about my Cousland, Sunniva, because I'm writing it for a contest on deviantART that's focused on the beloved Couslands. This one did _not_ romance Alistair, surprisingly. She didn't romance anybody. She barely got close to anyone, in fact... she was antisocial. Just did her duty without growing close to her companions. I think I liked her so much because of that very reason... she's awesome.**


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